“Can I go…my job?” she asked.
“Don’t worry about anything. Let Pete speak with the doctors and make a plan,” Wes cajoled her. “Get some rest for now.” He released her hands.
“Thank you again.” Eleanor hissed with pain, and the bed crinkled as she rolled to her side and fell asleep.
* * *
“What’s the plan?” Wes asked.
“I want to look at the CT scan myself, but if it’s normal, she needs post-concussion care. You know the drill. Q two-hour neuro checks for the first twelve hours. Rest, no caffeine. Nothing mentally demanding. Avoid loud noises. In her case, with her eyes bandaged, there’s built-in avoidance of electronic screen time, bright lights and sports or demanding physical activities. Hydration. A light, healthy diet and no alcohol consumption or cigarettes,” Pete ran down the list. “We can get her eyes rechecked and CT scan her again tomorrow.”
A loud page came over the overhead speakers. “Well, that isn’t restful. Can we bring her back to the training center?” His face pinched.
“The clinic won’t be operational or staffed until tomorrow,” Pete warned.
“You said it yourself…I know the drill. I have six empty bedrooms. I can watch her tonight. She’ll get better rest there than here.” Wes crossed his arms.
“I’ll check in with ophthalmology and recheck the scans. It’s 1400 hours now. If all goes well, you can get her out of here before dinner.”
* * *
The group of equine therapists sat together in the lounge of Alpha building. Addy Radliff sipped cola from a can. “We’ve been slaving since we got here. Where is our fearless cheerleader? All the patients couldn’t stop fawning over her,” she complained.
“Addy, come on. She’s the boss.” Brandon Finch shook his head. “None of us should speculate why she isn’t here.
“I don’t know about you, but how the hell did she get all those credentials? What did she do, live in the stables her whole life?” another female therapist asked.
“I thought we were bad. You know, misogynist pigs,” Cord Wyatt teased.
“Alright, pigs. Honest, you’re telling me you’d date her?” Caroline asked. “She’s the fat sidekick, not the main course.”
“Do you hear yourselves? Are you always that immature?” Theo asked.
“I guess that’s a no,” Marcia Roland said.
“Why are you so mean to her? She’s never done a mean thing to you. It wasn’t her fault she was hired as boss. They wanted her for the job,” Nadia said. “Are you afraid she’ll notice the horses hate you?”
“You all sound jealous to me,” another male therapist said.
“I don’t understand this. We’re here to help people grow more comfortable in their lives. I’d be more worried about doing your job than beating Ellie down.” Brandon pushed up to stand, then looked down at the faces of his new colleagues. The majority seemed to be on the same page he was. Four, he had his doubts about. The two most arrogant appeared to have the weakest horsemanship skills. He wondered whether their resumés were padded. He’d wait for Eleanor to arrive and go from there.
